There is a God.....and She has a sense of humor....
Anyway, they have some nice wines on their list: Gruet, Santa Cruz Mountain, Morgan, Mount Eden, Lockwood, River Ranch, Talbott, Kit Fox, private label stuff from Bruce Shipman, Alan Silvestri’s new wine, Mark Cheesebro’s new wine (recently the winemaker for Bernardus), etc.
All of the Czech print and film media are there at Brendan's bar, the charmingly named ''Eight Ball''. All of the big restaurant guys. Maxim models thick on the ground. And, Mr. Big….the number one importer of wine into Czech. Halfway through the tasting, Mr. Big clutches his heart, and drops like a sack. Heart attack.
Brendan called immediately: “What do I do?” Call an ambulance, roll him on his left side, and give him a fucking aspirin….
They hauled him outside and laid him on the cobblestones to wait for the EMT’s. I called back a minute ago. “How is everything?”
“Well, we got him in the wagon, and he was still breathing. Now I have all the media here to deal with, and the prick had nine more wines still to taste!”
Such compassion……such concern for his fellow man. Must be genetic
At the same moment I heard from my Mr. Big….my attorney Big Rich. Three years ago we were evicted by the Housing Authority from our kitchen of fourteen years, on 24 hours notice. Seems they had magically discovered that they were renting to us (and the two caterers before us) without a use permit. (The fact that we were defending the diabled tenants of the project from Housing's Brown Shirt labor camp tactics had nothing to do with the eviction).
When we lawyered up to stall them so we could find somewhere to move to….and they filed suit. We lost in court in front of my favorite judge, O’Farrell…..(who was reversed on appeal the last time I had him)…… Judge O awarded Housing something like $24,000 in legal fees. We appealed locally (the judge of the appeal board was the former ATTORNEY for the Housing Authority, and saw no conflict of interest THERE....) and lost. The only recourse was to kick it up to San Francisco to the Court of Appeals. Big Rich was not hopeful, and with a thousand hours invested already in a losing battle, basically gave up. I am paying him in baby back ribs, and was looking at buying part of Nebraska to fuel the fires of lawyerly passion for barbeque. I agreed, and Rich filed a one page brief that basically said: “My client got fucked. Figure it out. We quit.”
We incorporated, sold the business, and waited for the call from the bank…..Today, the Court of Appeals ruled: “Yup, your client got fucked!” Miracles never cease.
Now we get to sue THEM! That will be a lotta damn back ribs……
Now, Lord…..about that sense of humor……
And, speaking of which: After a post blasting all Culinary Institute graduates as lame asses and useless pricks.....the Google spiders have awarded me five links to Culinary Schools.....Sheesh!